Nightmare
by mojoco
Summary: S/V, AU, post "The Telling." Sequel to "Bad Dream" and "Sweet Dreams." Sydney and Vaughn aren't spies, they've never been spies. But she's having nightmares again...
1. Default Chapter

****

Nightmare

Rating: PG

Post "The Telling," AU, Sequel to "Bad Dream" and "Sweet Dreams"

S/V

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.

Synopsis: Sydney and Vaughn aren't spies, they've never been spies. But she's having nightmares again…

__

"You've been missing for almost two years."

Sydney Vaughn sits up with a jolt, putting a hand over her racing heart. _Nononononono_, the dreams couldn't be back, they couldn't be…

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" her husband asks drowsily, stirring beside her.

"Oh, Michael," she cries, collapsing into tears. "The dreams…the spy dreams…they're back."

"But you haven't had one of those for years." Michael is wide awake now, sitting up and placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"I--" She stops short, shaking her head. It was true; she'd stopped having the dreams years ago, after that wonderful one where they took down SD-6, where they were going to get to be together, where she knew that Michael would love her no matter what…

Now she isn't so sure.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," Michael says, squeezing her shoulders. "Tell me what's got you so upset."

"It-- it started out pretty great," Sydney says, wiping her tears away with a feeble smile. "We were spies, and we were having amazing sex, going out on missions, making plans for a weekend in Santa Barbara--"

"Sounds amazing," he says, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"It was, at first," she confesses. "But then-- oh, Michael." She collapses against him, letting him hold her even more tightly.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," he whispers soothingly. "Whatever it was, it's okay. It was just a bad dream"

"A nightmare," she whispers. "Michael-- I-- I collapsed on my own bedroom floor after a fight, and when I woke up, I was in an alley in Hong Kong, and I didn't know how long I'd been there or how I got there, and I made it to a CIA safe house…"

He doesn't say anything, only rubs her back comfortingly.

"And you walked in." She pulls away from his chest and looks up at him. "And you acted so awful, Michael, so sad, just not like yourself at all. You said you thought I was dead, and then--" she takes a deep breath, steeling herself to go on. "Then you rubbed your face, and I saw that you were wearing a wedding ring--"

"I thought we weren't married, in your dreams."

"We're _not_," she says firmly. "And then you told me-- you told me that I'd been missing for almost two years. I was missing, and you married someone else, Michael!"

"Are you sure?" he asks, beginning to look as concerned about this as she is.

"You were wearing a ring!" she cries.

"Sydney, calm down," he says, fear glowing in his green eyes. "Is there any way-- could I have been married to _you_, and you just didn't remember it?"

"I don't think so, Michael. Not with the way you were acting."

"Well, relax, sweetheart." He takes her hand, her left hand, and as he brings it to lips she sees that they are _both_ wearing wedding rings, and that hers is welded to the beautiful engagement ring he'd given her when he'd asked her to be his wife nearly a decade ago. "It was just a dream."

"Yeah," she says wearily, taking her hands from his and climbing out of bed. "Go back to sleep, Michael. I'm going to go check on Gracie," she says, naming their third child, their youngest, their baby. Sydney had learned she was pregnant with her just before Michael had gotten the job offer, the partnership at the big New York City law firm. Sydney had been reluctant to move, reluctant to leave their friends and her father and his mother, but they'd both agreed that the opportunity was too good to pass up, not to mention the money. Besides, moving meant that Sydney got to decorate their new house, their newest version of suburban paradise, fill it with new furniture, fill the closet with new winter clothes, the kind she hadn't needed in LA. The two of them had been blessed in so many ways. She felt almost deliriously happy, most of the time.

She would have given anything not to have had that dream.

"Hello, Gracie," she whispered down at the child in the crib before her. It was barely morning, but the baby girl's green eyes were wide open; she lay there, solemnly staring up at her mother. She was such a good baby.

Sydney lifted her from the crib and settled down in the rocking chair, staring down at the beautiful child. Gracie's older brother had his mommy's dark hair and daddy's green eyes, while her sister was the opposite, with Mommy's eyes and Daddy's hair. Grace was all Michael, a tiny, female version of Michael, with sandy blonde hair and those amazing green eyes.

"You're my whole life, Gracie, do you know that?" she cooed to the girl. "You and your brother and your sister and your daddy."

Maybe that was why the dream had scared her so much.

She'd been a teacher once, but she'd quit after their son was born, their first child. Michael had just been made partner at the law firm he'd worked for in Los Angeles, and they'd known they'd be able to live comfortably without her salary. Besides, her own mother had died when she was a little girl, and her father had never been around. The idea of being a stay-at-home mommy had appealed to her. She'd never had a family, not really, and she wanted to devote her entire life to hers.

But what if she lost them?

Michael was an amazing husband-- attentive, loving, indulgent. In her dreams, he'd been the only person he could count on, and in life, she depended on him for so much. She'd hated the way she'd felt in her dream when she'd seen that wedding ring on his finger. Lost. Alone. As if she was about to face something awful, and she was going to have to face it all by herself.

"Syd?" 

Sydney looks up at the doorway, offering her husband a shaky smile.

"That dream really shook you up, didn't it?"

She nods, afraid that she'll start crying if she tries to speak.

"Come here, baby."

She stands on shaky legs and deposits the baby back in her crib, then lets her husband take her in his arms.

"The dream ended," he whispers. "With me telling you you'd been missing for two years?"

"Yes," she says softly, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Syd…that can't be the end of the story," he says, wiping the tears from her cheek with a tender hand. "There has to be some explanation."

"Maybe," she says, her voice unsteady.

"There has to be."

She looks up at him, feeling more afraid than she can ever remember feeling. "Promise me you'll never leave me, Michael. I don't think I can do this without you."

"Sydney, I promised you that when I married you," he said, furrowing his brow in concern. "Of course I'll never leave you."

She lets him hold her close to him, and though she knows he thinks he is telling her the truth, she knows that he cannot see the future. He could walk out onto a busy New York street and get hit by a bus. He could go to the doctor for a routine checkup and learn he had some deadly disease.

He loves her, and he would never leave her on purpose, she knows that much.

But she fears that her nightmares won't stop any time soon. 


	2. Part Two

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Part Two

"Daddy!"

Sydney barely glanced up from her cooking as she heard the front door click shut, followed by the sound of Emily hurling herself from her place in front of the TV to meet her father. It was a daily ritual-- no matter where Emily was in the house, she always heard the front door close, always went running to meet her daddy.

"Hey, princess," she heard Michael say. That was another ritual-- he'd put down his briefcase and sweep his little girl into his arms. "How's daddy's little girl?"

"I'm good, Daddy," Emily chirped. "Mommy took Gracie and me to the park, and we fed the ducks, and I tried to get Gracie to say _quack, quack_, but Mommy says she's too little to talk."

"Well, keep trying, sweetheart," Michael said with a laugh. The two of them entered the kitchen, Emily scrambling into a chair at the kitchen table, and Michael moved to kiss Sydney's cheek. "Hi, honey."

"Hi," Sydney said, turning to smile at him. "How was your day?"

"The usual. Boring," he said, moving to lift Gracie from her playpen. "Hi, angel. Were you good for Mommy today?"

"She can't talk, Daddy!" Emily sang from her chair, where she had put herself to work with a coloring book and crayons.

"That's right," Michael said, winking at Sydney. "Did you have a good day, Syd?"

"I don't know," Sydney sighed, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "I know it sounds stupid, but I couldn't shake that dream off all day."

"Did you have a bad dream last night, Mommy?" Emily asked, scribbling furiously in the coloring book.

"Sort of, sweetie," Sydney said. "Emily, honey, why don't you put your coloring book away and go tell Jack it's time for dinner."

"Okay!" Emily exclaimed, springing up from her chair and running towards the backyard, where Sydney knew that six-year-old Jack was playing with his little basketball and hoop.

"God, I don't remember ever having that much energy," Michael said, shaking his head with a rueful smile as he redeposited the baby in her playpen. He got such a kick out of their kids-- Jack, so serious and solemn, Emily, so full of energy, and Grace, who they were just getting to know.

"Me, either," Sydney said, turning off the heat on the spaghetti sauce. "I shouldn't have made spaghetti, Emily's going to make such a mess, I'm not in the mood for a major clean-up tonight."

"I'll help you," Michael said, brow knitted in concern. "You okay, Syd?"

"I'm fine, I'm just--" Sydney shook her head and moved to place the sauce on the table. "Maybe I should think about going back to work."

Michael's eyebrows shot practically to the ceiling. "What, you mean get another teaching job?"

"You don't think I should?"

"I didn't say that, I just--"

__

Don't understand why I'd want to, Sydney finished silently. They had plenty of money-- Michael's new job had helped them shift from _comfortable_ to _wealthy_-- plus Gracie was only three months old, and Emily was two years away from even starting kindergarten.

"Oh, I don't know if I even want to," Sydney sighed, setting the spaghetti down next to the sauce. "I mean, I always thought I would eventually, when the kids were older, but it's probably too soon."

"Whatever makes you happy, Syd," Michael said quietly.

Sydney forced herself to smile. "You make me happy," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I hope so," he said seriously.

He did, he really did. She loved her life, had no cause for complaints.

She just wasn't sure why the dream had left her feeling so unsettled.


	3. Part Three

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Part Three

They'd met at a dinner party of a mutual friend, Sydney and Michael. She'd been twenty-three, a year out of college and just finishing her first year teaching high school English. Michael had been twenty-nine, four years out of law school and working as an attorney at one of the city's top law firms. They'd both come to the party alone and had ended up seated next to each other at dinner; later, they'd both wondered if it had been a set-up, though neither of them had been told anything about the other before arriving and the hostess had never admitted as much. Regardless, they'd hit it off during the meal and had spent hours afterwards talking over coffee and dessert. He'd asked for her phone number, and they'd gone out to dinner a few days later.

Three days after their first date, he'd called her up saying that his friends Eric and Kerri had two extra tickets to a hockey game, and would she like to go? The four of them had gone out to a bar after the game and had all had a little too much to drink, and at the end of the evening, Michael had told her he didn't think he had better drive.

"It's okay," she'd responded. "I can take a cab home." And then, in a moment of wild spontaneity, "Do you want to come over for awhile?" It was one of those questions you asked impetuously, when you were having so much fun you didn't want the night to end, without realizing what the invitation meant. The realization had hit her in the cab on the way home, that he would think she wanted to sleep with him, and really, was that what she wanted? Because they'd known each other less than a week and--

He'd leaned over to kiss her, and all of her reservations had left her. They'd made love that night, and she'd been proud of the way they'd handled themselves in the morning. Like adults. Neither of them had blurted out a panicked, "This was probably too soon," or "That was great, but we probably shouldn't have done it." Instead, she'd woke to find him pulling on the hockey jersey and jeans he'd worn the night before.

"Trying to slip out unnoticed?" she'd asked sleepily.

He'd laughed in response, then moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Morning, beautiful."

"Good morning," she'd said, pulling the sheet with her as she sat up so he could plant a kiss on her lips. 

"I have to go home and shower and change and go in to the office for a few hours," he'd said apologetically.

"What time is it?" she'd asked, even as her eyes moved to the digital clock on the bedside table.

"Almost ten."

"I'd better get up soon, too," she'd said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I'm meeting my friend Francie for lunch."

"Mm," he'd responded, giving her another light kiss. "Can I take you out to dinner?"

"Yes," she'd said, face lighting up in a smile she found hard to wipe off her face for the rest of the day. The second date probably was too soon to sleep with someone, yes, but it had felt so right, so amazing. He'd said as much as he'd paused on his way out the door to her bedroom. 

"Syd, last night was…" he's said, his voice trailing off as a slightly shy smile had spread over his face.

"I know," she'd replied, her own smile growing. "Have a good day, Michael."

"See you tonight, Syd. Around seven?"

"Great."

They'd been practically inseparable after that night. He'd proposed six months later, and they were married six months after that. It had all probably happened too fast, but just like that first night, it had felt so wonderful, so right.

Now, more than a decade later, she sits up in the bed they share, thumbing through a magazine while he brushes his teeth.

"Syd, about before," he says, emerging from the bathroom. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't want you to go back to work. I was just surprised. I know you said that someday you'd like to get your master's and teach a few college courses, but I assumed you meant when the kids were a little older."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she says, tossing her magazine to the side. "I was mostly just thinking out loud. I don't think I could stand leaving Grace and Emily with a stranger. I just…" she pauses, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "In my dream last night, you were the only thing that kept me sane, and the thought that I'd lost you--" she shudders. "It just scared me, Michael. You and the children-- you're all that I have."

He climbs into bed with her, cupping her chin with his hands. "Syd, you and the kids are all I have, too."

"You have your job," Sydney points out.

Michael rolls his eyes. "Do you really think that would matter to me if I lost you?"

"I guess not," she sighs. "I don't think it's even that I want a job, Michael. I just feel so-- disconnected from everything since we moved here. In LA we had so many amazing friends, Kerri was always dropping by with the boys, I knew everyone at all of your office parties, felt comfortable."

"We'll make good friends here, too, sweetie," he assures her. "Things have just been so hectic since we got here. Getting settled, Gracie being born."

"I know," she says with a smile, beginning to feel a little better. "I just need to find my place here."

He returns her smile, then leans over to kiss her. "Don't forget we have that party at Jake Hansen's tomorrow night."

"That's right," Sydney says, eyes lighting up. She doesn't know the people from Michael's new law firm yet, but it'll be fun to get dressed up and be social. She used to hate that sort of thing, but now she rather likes looking perfect and playing the adoring wife. "Ooh, maybe I'll go buy a new dress."

"You really feel like dragging Grace and Emily on a shopping trip?" Michael asks with a smirk.

Sydney lets out a peal of laughter. "Maybe I'll drop Emily off, let her spend some quality time at the office with Daddy."

"Mm, I wouldn't get a lot of work done, but it'd be entertaining," Michael says with a grin.

She leans over and plants a kiss on his lips. "I love you, Michael."

"Love you, Syd."

She snuggles up next to him, confident that tonight the nightmares won't bother her.


	4. Part Four

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Part Four

Sydney balanced the diaper bag and the purse over her shoulder, picking up Grace, settled into her carrier, in one deft movement. _Looks like I'll have to come back for the stroller_, she realized. Maybe Michael was right-- a shopping trip with Grace and Emily was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.

"Okay, Emmy, zip up your coat," she instructed the little girl.

"I need help, Mommy," Emily said, her little face screwed up in frustration.

"Emily--"

Sydney was interrupted by the sound of the ringing phone, which Emily scrambled off to get. "Emily, don't, sweetheart, we're going to be--"

"Hello?" Emily said perkily into the phone. Sydney put down Grace's carrier with a sigh. "Grammy!"

Sydney rolled her eyes. Michael's mother was a sweet woman, but she had a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times.

"We're going to have lunch with Daddy, Grammy," Emily continued. "And then Mommy's going to buy a new dress, and she said if I'm good I can have a new Barbie…She and Daddy are going to a party…Uh-huh…'Manda's going to baby-sit me," she said, naming the Vaughns' sixteen-year-old neighbor. "Yeah, Mommy's here." Without saying goodbye, she held the phone out to her mother. "It's Grammy, Mommy."

"Don't just hand me the phone, tell her goodbye, sweetheart," Sydney sighed.

Emily nodded. "Bye, Grammy. Here's Mommy…Love you too."

"Marguerite, hi," Sydney said, once Emily had handed her the phone.

"Sydney, darling," came the older woman's soft, French-accented voice. "I caught you as you were just running out the door, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry, you did," Sydney said apologetically. "Michael has meetings all afternoon, so we have to hurry if we want to catch him for lunch."

"Michel works too hard," Marguerite said, her voice gently reproving. "Just like his father."

Sydney winced. She knew Michael had idolized his father, but from what little Marguerite had said, she guessed that he had hardly been the perfect husband, and she knew that Marguerite was less than thrilled that Michael had followed his footsteps into the law.

__

"You're going to work yourself into an early grave, just like he did."

"Mom, Dad died in a car accident."

"He does work hard, yes, but he's doing very well," Sydney said, hoisting her purse up on his shoulder.

"And he's dragging you to another of his office functions tonight, isn't he?" Marguerite sighed.

"I really don't mind, Marguerite," Sydney said. A glance at the clock that hung above the oven told her that they had to leave in about five minutes if they wanted to have any hope of catching Michael. "I'm really sorry, but we do have to go. Can I call you back tomorrow, maybe when Michael's home?"

"Of course, of course," Marguerite said. "Quickly, though, tell me how my newest grandbaby and my grandson are?"

"They're wonderful, Marguerite," Sydney said, face widening into a smile as she gazed down at Gracie, quietly content in her baby seat. "Jack's doing so well in school, and Gracie is getting bigger every day."

"It was so wonderful to have all of you here for Christmas," Marguerite said warmly.

"We enjoyed it, too," Sydney said with a smile. "We want to fly you and my father out here in May, for Emily's birthday."

"Oh, Sydney, I can't possibly wait another four months to see the little ones," Marguerite said with a sigh. "I hate that you're so far away now."

"I wish we could see you more often, too," Sydney said, twirling a few loose strands of hair around her index finger.

"Mommy, I still need help," Emily said, tugging on Sydney's skirt.

Sydney sighed. "I've got to go, Marguerite. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"All right, dear. See that my son takes good care of you and the little ones."

"He does," Sydney smiled. "Goodbye, Marguerite."

"Goodbye, Sydney."


	5. Part Five

****

Part Five

"Daddy!" Emily squeals, running into her father's office.

"Princess," Michael says with a surprised laugh, crouching to allow the little girl to throw herself into his arms. "Where's your mommy?"

"Emily," says a harried-looking Sydney, pushing Grace's stroller into the office. "Don't run away from me like that, I said to stay there and wait while I talked to Daddy's secretary."

"But I wanted to see Daddy," Emily says with a petulant frown.

"You need to listen to your mommy, princess," Michael tells her, but there is a gleam in his eye that almost dares her not to take him seriously, and it drives Sydney insane. He's spoiling her again.

It drives even crazier when Michael straightens up and turns that gleam on her, and she forgets why she was irritated in the first place. "Rough morning?" he asks, offering her a soft kiss.

"Kind of. Sorry we're late, your mother called just as I was about to walk out the door."

"She has a knack for doing that, doesn't she?" Michael asks with a smile.

"Yes, she does," Sydney says, rolling her eyes.

"What did she want?" Michael asks, moving to lift Gracie out of her stroller. He babbles to the little girl in baby talk for a few seconds before settling her into the crook of his arm, and Sydney smiles.

"She didn't get much past the part of the conversation where she bemoans your choice of profession and the fact that you moved her grandbabies across the country," Sydney says with a half-smile. "I told her we had to hurry if we wanted to catch you before your meetings."

"Well, my one-thirty just called and rescheduled, so I'm all yours for a little longer."

"All mine, hmm?" Sydney asked, eyes glinting devilishly.

"Absolutely."

She pulls him toward her for a kiss, almost managing to forget that he holds a three-month-old baby in his arms and that a three-year-old sits spinning in her father's office chair. The three-year-old, of course, doesn't let her forget for long.

"I'm hungry, Mommy," she complains.

Michael and Sydney break the kiss with a laugh, their foreheads touching.

"If I'd known you had extra time, I would have left them with a sitter," Sydney whispers huskily.

"There's always tonight," he says with a smile.

"Mm," she says, giving him one last kiss. "Are you sure we have to spend it with your business associates?"

"Sorry, baby, we do," he says apologetically. "But we don't have to stay too late."

"Good," she says, running her index finger down the front of his shirt in a way she knows drives him wild.

"What do you say we get away some weekend soon?" he whispers. "Just the two of us."

"Really?" she asks, eyes lighting up.

"Absolutely," he says. "Maybe we could fly my mom out to stay with the kids."

"Oh, she'd love that," Sydney says happily.

"Mr. Vaughn, I-- oh, I'm sorry."

Sydney and Michael turn toward the door to see Todd, one of the younger associates at the firm, standing holding a file folder.

"Liz wasn't at her desk, I didn't know you had visitors," Todd continued, naming Michael's secretary.

"It's okay, Todd, what is it?"

"Do you have a minute?" Todd asked, flipping open the file folder.

"Sure, make it quick, though."

"Absolutely." He directs a look at Sydney. "Sorry, Mrs. Vaughn."

"It's quite all right." Sydney takes Gracie from her husband and motions for Emily to move out of Michael's chair, then settles herself there with both little girls in her lap, watching Michael explain something to the younger man. She loves watching him do this, and especially loves watching him in the courtroom, though she hasn't done so often. Something about the very way he speaks, the very way he carries himself denotes authority, power, and she finds it almost irresistibly attractive.

"Thanks, Mr. Vaughn," Todd says, snapping the file folder shut.

"No problem, Todd. I'll see you at the party tonight. You're bringing Lisa, right?"

"Yeah. It was good to see you, Mrs. Vaughn," Todd says, shooting a smile at Sydney.

"You too, Todd."

"Bye, Todd!" Emily chirps.

"Bye, uh--"

"Emily," Emily says, beaming at him. "Emily Adele Vaughn. And my daddy's name is Michael and my mommy's name is Sydney and my brother's name is Jack and my sister's name is Gracie."

"How old are you?" Todd asks with a smile.

"This many," Emily says, holding up three fingers.

"You're smart," Todd tells her seriously.

"Thank you."

Todd manages to excuse himself, and Emily scrambles off of Sydney's lap. "Can we go eat now, Daddy?"

"Of course we can," Michael says with a smile, picking her up. "Then what else are you going to do today, princess?"

"Mommy's going to buy a new dress and then I'm going to get a new Barbie."

"If you're good, Emily," Sydney admonished. "That means you can't run away from me again, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy."

Michael puts Emily down and turns his attention to Sydney. "Are you going to be home in time to pick Jack up from school?"

Sydney shakes her head. "I asked Mrs. Byrne if she could pick him up when she went to get Aaron." The Byrnes were the Vaughns' neighbors; their sixteen-year-old daughter, Amanda, was baby-sitting for the kids that night, and their son, Aaron, was six years old and in Jack's class at school. "I thought Jack and Aaron could play together. I'm a little worried about Jack, I don't think he's made many friends here."

"Give him time," Michael says. "He's a little shy. I was the same way when I was his age."

"You?" Sydney asks with a delighted smile.

"You don't believe me?" 

"It's just that I know how persuasive you can be," she says, moving close to whisper in his ear. "You had me in bed on the second date, Michael. That was an unprecedented event."

"_I_ had _you_ in bed?" he teases, his voice low enough that Emily can't hear. "I believe you were the one who invited me back to your place."

"Whatever," Sydney rolls her eyes. "I'm just saying, you weren't shy."

"Can I help it if I know what I want?" he asks innocently.

"No," she says with a smile. "And that's one of the things I love about you."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

His smile softens. "You know what I love about you?"

"What?"

He reaches out to brush a hand across her cheek. "Everything." 


	6. Part Six

****

Part Six

"What do you think, Em?" Sydney asks, spinning around in front of the three-way mirror. Emily sits in a chair nearby, facing the stroller so she can "watch the baby," as her mother has instructed her to do.

"You look pretty, Mommy."

"Yeah?" Sydney says, idly fingering one of the dress's spaghetti straps. It's a beautiful dress, that's for sure-- empire waisted, hemmed just above the knee. "I like it, too. I'm just not sure if I need another black dress."

"You can never have too many."

Sydney turns in the direction of the new voice, eyes widening in surprise. "Kerri!" she cries, offering her old friend a hug. "What are you doing in New York? Were you going to call us?"

"My cousin's getting married here in the city, I'm only in town overnight," Kerri explains.

"Oh, this is so great that I ran into you," Sydney bubbles. "I was just telling Mike, oh, yesterday, how much I miss having you and the boys drop by. Are they with you?"

"No, no, I left them with Eric for the weekend."

Sydney bites her lower lip. Eric and Kerri Weiss divorced shortly after Sydney and Michael moved to New York, and though they have seen Eric a couple of times, Sydney has barely spoken to Kerri. There were reasons-- Gracie, getting settled-- but Sydney knows that none of the reasons are good enough. The fact is, she hasn't been a very good friend to Kerri lately.

Luckily, Kerri doesn't let the awkward silence hang in the air for long; she crouches down to look at Gracie. "This must be the newest little Vaughn. Oh, Sydney, she's beautiful. Those pictures you sent were adorable, thanks so much."

"Thanks, we're so proud of her," Sydney says, smiling in spite of herself.

"She has your mouth, and I do believe she's going to have your nose, too," Kerri decides.

"Oh, no, she's Michael, all Michael," Sydney says dismissively.

"Nah, there's some of you there, too," Kerri says, turning to smile at Emily. "And Emily, you've gotten so big. Your hair's gotten so long," she says, reaching out to touch the girl's blonde ponytail. "You look pretty."

"Thank you," Emily says, suddenly shy.

"Emily, sweetheart, you remember Mommy's friend Kerri." Of course, they haven't seen Kerri in so long. How much does a three-year-old really remember?

"Hi, Kerri," Emily says, smiling.

"Hello, sweetheart," Kerri says warmly, straightening up to face Sydney. "So, that dress is great! Where are you and Michael off to tonight?"

"Just a dinner party with some of his associates," Sydney says, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Kerri used to be the one to keep her company at that sort of thing. She supposes that wouldn't be true anymore even if she and Michael still lived in LA.

"What are the chances you'll blow it off to come hang out with me at the wedding?" Kerri asks, eyes lighting up.

"I'm sorry, Kerri, I can't," Sydney says apologetically.

An awkward silence follows her statement, and when Kerri breaks it, Sydney wishes she hadn't. "Right," Kerri says, bitterness coloring her voice. "How would it look for you not to be there at Michael's side, his perfect little trophy?"

Sydney's eyes widen. "That's not fair, Kerri."

"You're right, it's not," Kerri says, tears rushing to her eyes. "Michael isn't Eric, he would never leave you to--" she breaks off, shaking her head as if willing herself not to cry.

"I'm sorry, Kerri, I--"

"Why didn't you call me when you were in town for Christmas, Sydney?"

Sydney looks away regretfully. "We were only in LA for a few days, Kerri, we--"

"You managed to see Eric, and Francie and Will," Kerri interrupts. "I know about Eric, because he told me when he came to drop off the boys. And I know about Francie, because she's about the only one of our mutual friends who still talks to me."

"You're not being fair," Sydney says, tears coming to her own eyes. "You act as if I haven't tried at all. I invited you to the party we had after Gracie was born."

"Don't pretend you weren't relieved that I didn't come," Kerri says, crossing her arms in front of her. "I know that Eric flew out for it, my being there would have just made things awkward for everyone, caused a scene in front of all of Michael's new colleagues."

"Look, forget it," Sydney says, feeling the anger bubble up in her stomach. "I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you enough, okay? I'm sorry. But don't pretend its because I've been deliberately trying to hurt you and not because I've been busy--"

"Busy living your perfect existence," Kerri spits out. "The house, the kids, the parties, the clothes," she says, glaring at Sydney's dress as if it had personally offended her. "I know all about it. I had it once, too. But it doesn't last forever, and when it's over, it's lonely, and it's scary."

Sydney feels feelings of dread coursing through her. Hadn't this been just what she'd been afraid of in her dream? Losing Michael? Losing everything? "Michael is not Eric," she whispers.

Some of the anger leaves Kerri's face then, anger that is quickly replaced with regret. "No, Sydney, he's not, and I shouldn't be taking all of this out on you."

"You're right, though," Sydney says, running a hand back through her hair. "I haven't been there for you like I should have been. You're one of my best friends."

It is then that Gracie begins to wail, and Sydney turns stricken eyes to the sobbing infant.

"Mommy, you need to take care of Gracie," Emily says, looking nearly ready to burst into tears herself.

"I-- I should leave you alone," Kerri says, blue eyes full of sadness. "I'll-- I'll give you a call sometime."

"All right," Sydney says, barely looking at the other woman as she moves to lift Gracie from her stroller. "What's the matter, honey? Mommy's here."

"Ma'am, the dress--" A salesgirl rushes to her side, undoubtedly terrified that the expensive garment will be covered in baby drool and vomit in a matter of seconds.

"Here," Sydney says, tearing the price tag from her side with one hand. "Ring it up. I have an account here."

"Very well, Mrs.--"

"Vaughn." Emily has begun to cry now, too, and Sydney fears that she won't be far behind. "Mrs. Sydney Vaughn."

The salesgirl hurries away, and Sydney feels the first tear crawl down her cheek.

She wishes she'd never left the house.


	7. Part Seven

****

Part Seven

"Syd?"

"In here, Michael!" Sydney calls, sinking down further into the bubbles. She knows she needs to get out of the tub, needs to slip into the little black dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door, but she can't quite bring herself to do so.

"Hey." Sydney had left the door that led from their bedroom to the bathroom open, and now Michael appears, leaning against the doorjamb. "Where are the kids?"

"I dropped Grace and Emily off at the Byrnes' on my way home, Amanda said she didn't mind watching them a little early."

"Oh." Confusion clouds Michael's green eyes. "I thought she was going to watch them over here."

Sydney shakes her head, though that was, in fact, the original plan. "They're going to stay overnight over there. Remind me, we have to stop over there and drop off the kids' pajamas and more milk and diapers for Gracie on our way out."

"Overnight?" Michael frowns. "Syd, she's going to charge us a fortune."

"Damn it, Michael, we can afford it," Sydney says irritably.

Michael just stares at her, his wonderfully expressive green eyes showing first irritation, then hurt.

"I needed a break, okay?" Sydney says, struggling to keep her voice even. "I wanted to come home and have a nice bath and a glass of wine without Emily running in here every two seconds. I want to drink too much at the party and come home and tear off your clothes in the front hallway."

"Well, when you put it that way," Michael grins, moving to sit on the edge of the tub. He kisses her gently, and she smiles. "Are you okay, Syd?"

She shakes her head. "I ran into Kerri today."

"Kerri Weiss?" Sydney nods. "What was she doing in town?"

"A wedding, or something." 

"How is she?" Michael asks, brow knitted in concern.

"Not good," Sydney says. "She's bitter, and mad at the world. At Eric, of course, for leaving her for that little whore, and at me, for continuing to live the life she lost."

"Don't say that," Michael says, rising from the side of the tub and beginning to pace. "You may live a similar lifestyle, but Eric and Kerri never had what we have."

"It wasn't just Shawna, was it?" Sydney realizes, naming the twenty-four-year-old Eric has been seeing. "He'd cheated on her before."

"Yes," Michael says, eyes full of pain.

Sydney sighs, lying back in the tub. "How long had he been cheating?"

Michael sighs, running a hand back through his brown hair. "For years, Syd."

"You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

Michael opens his mouth to reply, but she interrupts hurriedly.

"No, no, why would you have told me? I saw Kerri every day, that would have put me in a really awkward position. And it's not like I didn't suspect, anyway."

Michael nods, taking her wine glass and having a sip.

"Why, Michael? Why would he do that?"

Michael shakes his head. "I think for a lot of different reasons. In college he was always-- well, you know the type. Every girl's friend, no one's boyfriend. Then he met Kerri, and everything seemed so great. He went to law school, and then--" he shrugs. "He started making some money, and more women started paying attention. I don't know, Syd."

"God," Sydney sighs. She sits back, frowning as she remembers her conversation with Kerri. "I was so mad at her at first, the things she was saying to me, accusing me of. But then I started just to feel sorry for her. I'd die if I was in her position."

Michael leans over to kiss her. "You're not," he says firmly. "Because I'm not Eric."

"Thank God," she says with a smile.

He stands, smiling down on her. "We should probably leave in about an hour."

"Okay. I was almost ready to get out, anyway."

"Good." He pauses at the door, fingering the fabric of the new black dress. "Is this your new dress?"

"Mm-hmm," Sydney says with a smile. "You like?"

"It's beautiful," he says, returning her smile. "You haven't had the chance to do much shopping for yourself since the baby was born."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, next time I go, I'll leave the little ones with a sitter. Grace needed fed while I was still in the dress, started wailing. I had to practically throw the price tag at the salesgirl."

"I don't know how you do it," he says, moving to sit on the edge of the tub yet again. "You're so amazing."

He kisses her, and she smiles. "I'm not amazing."

"You are," he assures her.

Her smile widens. "I love you, Mike."

"Love you, Syd." 


	8. Part Eight

****

Part Eight

Sydney stands on the Hansens' balcony, clutching a glass of red wine. Jake and Heather Hansen live in a gorgeous condo in Manhattan with a fantastic view; Sydney excused herself between dinner and dessert to spend some time enjoying it.

She has only been there a couple of minutes when she feels arms around her waist and lips on her neck, and she leans into her husband's touch.

"You okay, baby?" 

"Mm," she affirms, moving her left hand up to caress his cheek. "Just getting some air."

"The view's incredible, isn't it?"

"Amazing," she agrees. "Jake and Heather have a beautiful place."

"Are you having an okay time?"

"Sure," she says, turning in his arms to face him, careful not to spill her wine as she wraps her arms around his neck. "Should I go back inside, see if Heather needs any help with dessert?"

"I think Lisa's helping her, she's fine," Michael assures her.

Sydney nods. "Lisa's really sweet, we should have her and Todd out for dinner sometime."

"That's a good idea," Michael agrees. He runs a finger lightly under the strap of her dress, smiling softly at her. "What do you say, another hour and then we call it a night?"

"Mm, a whole hour?" she asks, beginning to kiss a trail down his neck.

"Hey, you two-- oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, Heather," Michael says, blushing a little as the door to the balcony opens. "We were just coming in."

"Well, good," Heather says with a smirk. "Because the coffee's ready, and we're about to have cake."

"Great." Michael steals one last smile at Sydney, squeezing her hand as they head inside.

Everyone has arranged themselves on couches and chairs in the Hansens' large, sunken living room, and Sydney winds up seated near Heather; Sheila, a partner at the firm; and Lisa, Todd's wife. 

"God, what, ten years and you can't keep your hands off each other?" Heather asks, downing the last of her glass of wine-- her third, Sydney notes. "I can only hope Jake and I end up like that."

"What are you talking about?" Sheila asks with a frown. Of all the women there, she is Sydney's least favorite; she strikes Sydney as a jealous, bitter shrew. _Kerri Weiss in ten years. Oh, I can't believe I just thought that._

"Syd and Michael," Heather says casually, reaching for her cake plate. "Having a little fun out on the balcony."

Sydney blushes. The way Heather is talking, you would think that Michael's pants had been down, or something. "How long have you and Jake been together, Heather?" 

"Almost two," Heather says. For a minute, Sydney thinks she has succeeded in changing the subject, and then-- "Trust me, if he looked like Michael, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of him, either." 

"So, Sydney, Todd told me you had your kids at the office today," Lisa says, and Sydney shoots her a grateful smile. "He says they're adorable."

"Thanks, that's sweet of him to say," Sydney says.

"Syd and Mike's kids? Oh, they're totally sweet," Heather gushes. "Jake and I visited after the little one-- Gretchen, is it?-- was born."

"Gracie," Sydney corrects.

"How old are your kids, Sydney?" Sheila asks.

"Jack is six, Emily's three, and Gracie was born in October."

"You know, my girls are sixteen and twelve, and I'll bet they'd love to baby-sit," Sheila says, and Sydney thinks maybe she's not so shrewish, after all. "My sister has a little boy not much older than Gracie, and the two of them are great with him."

"That's a really nice offer, I might have to take them up on that," Sydney says with a smile. "I can use a break every now and then."

"I'll bet," Sheila says sympathetically. "I stayed home with Ellen and Cassie-- my girls-- when they were little, and it can get pretty trying."

Sydney smiles gratefully. Sheila had seemed like the type who might belittle what Sydney does, staying home with the kids, and she's happy to find this is not the case.

"Syd, honey."

Michael appears at Sydney's side, and Sydney smiles up at him.

"Are you about ready to go?"

"Taking off so soon?" There is a gleam in Heather's eye, as if she knows exactly what they are leaving to do. Of course, Sydney has to admit that her guess is probably not far off.

"Yes, Heather, everything was wonderful, but we should be going. If you're ready, Syd."

"Absolutely."

"I'll get your coats," Heather says, scrambling up.

"And I'll give you our number, in case you need a sitter," Sheila adds.

It takes a few minutes to say their thank yous and goodbyes, but eventually they are out the door, headed towards their car.

"That was a lot less than an hour, Michael," Sydney points out.

Michael smirks. "I figured if they're already talking about us having fun on the balcony, they might as well also be talking about us leaving early to be alone."


	9. Part Nine

****

Author's Note: There is an NC-17 version of this chapter posted at sd-1.com, in the Syd/Vaughn fanfic thread, if you would rather read that.

Part Nine

Their hands and lips are everywhere by the time they are through their front door; Sydney pushes his coat to the floor as his lips assault her neck.

"We should start a fire," he murmurs.

She grins wickedly. "I think we already started one."

He laughs against her neck. "In the fireplace, Syd. When have we had the chance to make use of it, just the two of us? We can open a bottle of wine…"

"I can slip into something more comfortable," she says, reveling in the idea. She would have loved to take him right there in the entryway, but she thinks she likes the idea of making this last even better. It's not often, after all, that they have the entire house to themselves. Come to think of it, she can't recall having made love anywhere other than their bedroom and the bathtub since they moved in. Pity to waste all the space…

"You do that," he whispers, pulling away from her. She whimpers at the loss, and he smiles. "I'll get the fire going, pick out a bottle of wine. You go change."

"Okay," she says, kissing him once more, languidly, rapturously. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart. Now hurry back."

She makes it up the stairs in record time, smiling slyly as she opens her lingerie drawer. Before the whole Kerri debacle, she managed to pick out an absolutely gorgeous black nightgown made of satin and lace. It's a lovely garment, sexy without being trashy, and she smiles when she thinks of the way Michael will look at her when he sees her in it.

She changes and makes her way back to the living room. Michael has discarded his jacket and tie and stands before the fireplace, sipping a glass of wine as he surveys his handiwork.

"Michael," she says softly.

He turns to look at her, raking his gaze over her in open admiration. She loves the way he looks at her, as if she is something to be admired, worshipped, adored.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, moving slowly toward her.

She smiles, reveling in his gaze, his admiration.

He moves close to her, very close, running one of the nightgown's spaghetti straps between his fingers. "New?"

"Bought it today," she whispers.

He runs one finger, his index finger, along the strap. "Exquisite," he whispers, and she doesn't know if he means her, or the expensive fabric of the nightgown. Both, perhaps. "It's a pity, though."

"What is?"

He smiles. "I'm sure it was expensive," he murmurs. "And you're not going to be wearing it for long."


	10. Part Ten

****

Part Ten

Sydney has a smile on her face the next morning as she begins to stir. What an amazing night. She and Michael spent most of the night wrapped up in a blanket in front of the fireplace, talking and making love. They definitely need to take those nights alone more often.

She opens her eyes, frowning to find that he is no longer in bed beside her. "Please, Michael, don't tell me you went in to the office without waking me," she murmurs. It's Saturday, but Michael usually tries to get a few hours of work in.

Not today, or at least, not yet. He appears in the doorway clad in an undershirt and boxer shorts, carrying a plate heaped with scrambled eggs.

"My hero," she sighs. "I'm famished."

"I thought you might be," he says with a devilish grin. He settles in bed beside her, scooping up a forkful of eggs and feeding her a bite.

"Delicious," she says with a smile. She moves to take the fork and feed him, but she stops short at the sound of the ringing phone. "Don't answer it."

"Syd, it might be Amanda calling about the kids," he says, rolling over to pick up the receiver. "Hello?…Hi, Amanda, how are you?"

Sydney groans, falling back on the bed.

"Oh, okay…Sure, that's fine…Okay…Okay, see you then. Thanks again for keeping them overnight…Okay, bye."

"What?" Sydney moans as he hangs up the phone.

"She's supposed to meet a friend to go shopping. She's dropping them back off here in half an hour."

"Noooo," Sydney whines.

Michael laughs. "Come on, Syd. Don't you miss them even a little bit?"

"Of course I do." Then, "When are we going away for the weekend, again?"

Michael smiles. "How does Valentine's Day sound?"

"Oh, Mike, that'd be incredible," Sydney breathes. "Less than a month from now. Where should we go?"

"Well, Jake's always talking about this great cabin he has in Vermont," Michael says. "I was thinking maybe I could talk him into letting us borrow it. I think it's in a little resort town, we could go skiing."

"Or not," Sydney says, planting a kiss on his neck.

He smiles. "Or not." He stands, handing her the plate and moving to the window to look outside. "Syd, it snowed!"

"Did it?" she asks bemusedly. The winter weather is Michael's favorite part of living on the east coast; she's less of a fan. 

"I'll bet the pond's frozen over," he says, eyes lighting up like a little boy's. "Oooh, Syd, we can bundle up the kids, go play some hockey."

"Mike, you know Grace is too little to be out in the cold, bundled or not."

"Oh." She bites her lip to keep from smiling at the way his face falls; he looks like a kid whose mommy just told him he can't play outside.

"You can still take Jack and Emily, though."

"Really?" The most adorable grin breaks out on Michael's face; God, she loves this man. "You wouldn't mind?"

"No, baby. Go have fun."

"You're the best." He returns to the bed to give her an exuberant kiss. "I should write Amanda a check. Have you seen my wallet?"

Sydney smirked. "If it was in your pants pocket last night, darling, then I imagine its on the living room floor with the rest of your clothes."

"Shit."

Sydney smiles. "I suppose I should go straighten up down there before Amanda gets here."

"No, stay, I'll do it," he says, leaning over to kiss her again. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"You spoil me."

"You deserve it." He kisses her one last time before pulling on a pair of jeans and heading out the door, and she smiles, leaving the plate of eggs on the bed as she gets up to find some clothes to throw on. She put on her nightgown for the trip upstairs last night, but somehow she found her way out of it again. Funny how that happened. 

She has just made her way into an old long-sleeved t-shirt of Michael's and a pair of pajama pants when the phone rings again. "Marguerite," she murmurs. Had she said she'd call her mother-in-law back, or was Marguerite going to call her?

"Hello?"

"Sydney, hi. It's Kerri."

"Kerri." Sydney feels awful for her friend, and she hates that bastard Eric Weiss for what he did to her, but she can't help feeling a bit frosty about the things Kerri had said the day before. "Hi."

"Sydney, I'm sorry about yesterday," Kerri says in a rush. "I shouldn't have taken my problems out on you, you didn't deserve that."

Sydney sighs, running a hand back through her hair. "I know you're going through a rough time."

"I am, but that's no excuse," Kerri says. "Listen, I don't fly out till three. Will you have lunch with me? I don't think I have time to come out to your house, but maybe we could meet somewhere."

Sydney sighs again. "I don't know, Kerri, I should probably--"

"Please, Sydney." Kerri's voice is desperate, as if she is on the verge of tears. "I meant it yesterday when I said that Francie is the only one of Eric's and my friends that'll talk to me. I-- I really need this."

Sydney can't help but feel a little resentful at being made to feel guilty for something that's not her fault, but she does want to be there for her friend. "Michael's doing something with Jack and Em today, but I'll have to bring Grace with me."

"Fine, that's fine," Kerri says, voice flooded with relief. "Can you meet me around noon? Maybe at that-- that little café next door to the store I saw you at yesterday?"

"Sure, I know the place," Sydney says. "Noon, then."

"Noon. Great, Syd. See you then."

Sydney hangs up the phone just as Michael enters, carrying Gracie on his hip. "Look who missed her mommy."

"Aw." Sydney can't help but smile at the sight of her youngest daughter, still clad in the tiny pink pajamas Sydney had left for her the night before. "Come here, sweetie," she says, reaching out to take her from Michael. "What did Amanda have to say? Did everything go okay? When did Grace eat last?"

"Everything went fine, Jack and Aaron had a great time playing together, Emily spent the whole night playing with Amanda's old Barbies, and Grace had a bottle an hour ago," Michael reports. "And I gave Amanda the largest tip of all time, she said to call back any time we need a night alone."

"We might have to take her up on that," Sydney says with a smile. "Where are Jack and Em?"

"They're waiting by the door, I told them not to take their coats off," Michael says, rushing toward the closet. "Do you know where my hockey pants are?"

"Michael," Sydney groans. "You can't give the two of them time to catch their breath? Have you even showered yet?"

"You know if they come in and sit down in front of the TV we won't get going for another hour, Syd," Michael says. "Hey, who was on the phone?"

"Kerri," Sydney sighs. "Gracie and I are going to go meet her for lunch."

"What, you really want to do that?" Michael asks, losing his jeans and pulling on a pair of hockey pants.

"I don't know. It'll be good to talk to her again, I guess," Sydney says, smoothing her little girl's hair away from her face. "I know you're in a hurry, but could you please please go tell Jack and Em they can take their coats off and stick around and watch Grace while I take a shower?"

"Oh, fine." Michael looks vaguely upset, then brightens. "Hey, you know what we should do tonight, we should take the kids out for pizza. That'd be fun, right?"

"Sure." Sydney gives her husband a kiss, then hands him their daughter. "I'm going to get ready. Go talk to Jack and Em before they bake, okay?"

"Okay." Michael starts for the door, then pauses on his way out. "Syd, last night was…"

She closes her eyes, remembering the way he had looked at her in her black nightie, the way he had lay her down on the blanket in front of the fireplace as if she were something very precious. "I love you, Michael."

"Love you, Syd." 


	11. Part Eleven

****

Part Eleven

Sydney walks into the restaurant, carrying Grace in her baby carrier. She looks impeccable in a pair of gray wool slacks and a black turtleneck sweater, her hair gently curled and her face expertly made up. She's not sure why it is important for her to look perfect for her meeting with Kerri, but it is.

The hostess tells her that her party is already waiting for her, and leads her to where Kerri sits at a table near the window. Kerri, too, looks nearly perfect in a pale blue angora sweater and black pants, and Sydney smiles at the other woman.

"Sydney, hi, you look great," Kerri says, standing to greet the other woman.

"Thanks, so do you," Sydney says. Sydney place's Gracie's carrier on the table's third chair, and the two women hug awkwardly.

"God, she's beautiful, Sydney," Kerri says, gazing down at the baby. "I'm so happy for you."

Sydney knows it is hard to be happy for someone else when you are miserable yourself, buy Sydney vows that she will not bring up Eric until Kerri does. "Thanks," she responds. "She's such a good baby."

"Was Michael that blond when he was a little kid, do you know?" 

"Oh, yes," Sydney says as the women settle themselves at the table. "Marguerite's shown me pictures, it's pretty amazing."

The waitress comes to take their drink orders, and Sydney and Kerri smile awkwardly at each other for a moment.

"So how was the party?" Kerri finally asks.

Good. Nice, neutral subject matter. "It was all right. There's a young associate at Michael's office, Todd, and his wife Lisa is very sweet."

"Remind you of yourself at her age?"

Sydney is taken aback by the question, but she smiles. "A little, I guess. Anyway, and I didn't really like Sheila-- she's one of the partners at Michael's office-- much at first, but we talked last night, and she seems nice enough. And Heather, she and her husband were the ones having the party, she's kind of obnoxious. She saw Michael and I kissing on the bal--" The word dies on her lips, and Kerri smiles encouragingly.

"Syd, really, you can talk about being happy with Michael, it's okay."

After their run-in the day before, Sydney isn't sure.

"Go on," Kerri encourages. "She saw you and Michael kissing on the balcony, then what happened?"

"Oh, nothing." The waitress returns with their glasses of iced tea, and Sydney stirs a packet of Sweet 'N Low into hers. "She just made a big deal out of it, told all of the other women. Then Michael and I ended up being the first to leave, I'm sure everyone was gossiping about us."

"I'm sure they didn't even think about it," Kerri says dismissively.

It is only then that they realize that the waitress is still standing there. "Are you ready to order?" she asks politely.

"Oh." Sydney flips her menu open and quickly surveys the choices. "I'm starving. Michael made me eggs, but I didn't have time to eat them. Um-- the Portobello mushroom sandwich, please. With fries."

"A garden salad," Kerri says with a sigh, eyeing Sydney jealously as the waitress disappears. "The weight from the baby just melted right off of you."

Sydney shrugs, a little embarrassed. "Grace and Emily and I go for a walk almost every day, don't we, sweetie?" she coos at the baby. "Anyway," she says, redirecting her attention to Kerri. "You have little ones, you know how it is, there's hardly time to eat. Oh, by the way, how are the boys? I really miss them." Kerri's sons were eight, five, and three; her youngest, Alex, had been born only a month after Emily, and Kerri and Sydney had often joked that the two would end up together one day. It had been fun, Sydney thinks wistfully, being pregnant at the same time as her friend. The Weisses and the Vaughns had always spent a lot of time together-- picnics, trips to the beach. It's sad to realize that that will never be the case again, and not just because she and Michael moved away.

"The boys are good," Kerri says quietly. "Eric's been good about spending time with them on the weekends, which is remarkable. He never seemed to find time for them-- or me-- when we were actually married."

__

It must have been time-consuming, juggling a wife and a girlfriend at the same time, Sydney thinks, then immediately regrets it.

"Do you know," Kerri continues. "That the only time we spent together as a family was the time we spent with you and Michael and your kids?"

"I'm sorry," Sydney says, not sure what else to say.

"How's Jack?" Kerri asks after a long moment of uncomfortable silence. "I didn't get to ask about him yesterday."

"He's good," Sydney says, sipping her iced tea. "I worry about him, he's so shy, but Michael says he was the same way when he was his age."

"Michael?" Kerri says with a smile. "No way. Michael's quiet, but he has too much confidence to be shy."

"That's what I thought," Sydney says, bemused. "You've known him longer than I have, Kerri. Was he the same way in college?"

"Oh, sure, Michael never changes," Kerri says, her smile widening. "You know, he never had any problems attracting girlfriends, but he was always faithful to the one he was with."

Sydney remembers what Michael said about Eric in college-- every girl's friend, no one's boyfriend, and her smile falters.

"I meant what I said, Syd," Kerri says. "About Michael not being Eric. They've always been two completely different men. Maybe that's why I lashed out at you yesterday." She smiles, a bit sadly. "Eric and I never had what you and Mike have."

Michael had said the same thing, and Sydney had believed him. Hearing Kerri say it, though, just makes her feel awful for her friend. She wishes Kerri had been so lucky. She says as much now.

"I-- I understand why you said what you did yesterday, Kerri, and you don't have to reassure me about Michael. I just wish you weren't hurting so badly."

Tears spring to Kerri's eyes. "It'll get better, Syd. I know deep down this was all for the best, that I'm better off without him. I just-- I miss him, you know?"

Sydney stands and moves around the table to hug her friend. She hates that she doesn't have more to offer her. But she thinks that right now, maybe just her being there is enough.


	12. Part Twelve

****

Part Twelve  
  
The food comes then, and the women settle back into their seats. There are a few minutes of silence as Kerri drizzles dressing over her salad and Sydney pours ketchup over her fries. Sydney has just bitten into her sandwich when Kerri speaks.  
  
"So, Mike made you eggs this morning, huh?" she asks, a devilish grin playing about her lips. "Did Mikey get thoroughly laid last night?"  
  
Sydney nearly spits out the bite of sandwich she has just put in her mouth. "Kerri!"  
  
"Don't act all shocked," Kerri says with a smile. "I remember when the four of us used to go on vacation together and the two of you would come down for breakfast, you'd have Mike practically kissing your feet. I always wondered what the hell you knew how to do in the bedroom that I never learned."  
  
"I don't know how to do anything special," Sydney murmurs, feeling her cheeks grow hot.  
  
"So how was it?" Kerri presses.  
  
"It was good," Sydney says, nibbling a French fry and wishing Kerri would just let it lie.  
  
"Good? Sydney, please, you've gotta give me more than that, I haven't had sex in a year."  
  
"A year? Ker, you and Eric have only been apart eight months."  
  
Kerri gives her what can only be described as a Look, and Sydney can't help but laugh. "Oh, Kerri."  
  
"Fine, don't give me details," Kerri says, reaching over and snatching one of her fries. "But you didn't even eat the eggs? Syd, you've got to be more appreciative than that, it's not everyday you find a guy who'll bring you breakfast in bed."  
  
"I didn't say it was in bed," Sydney says, wishing that the heat in her cheeks would go away.  
  
"But it was," Kerri says knowingly.  
  
"It was," Sydney admits with a smile. "I know, he's the best."  
  
As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she wants to apologize for them. Kerri seems to sense this. "Syd, seriously, you don't have to feel guilty because I didn't marry the best."  
  
"But I don't have to brag about my husband bringing me breakfast in bed, either," Sydney points out.  
  
"Syd, I was the one who brought it up," Kerri says.   
  
"Seriously, though, Kerri, this is part of the reason I haven't called so often in the last few months," Sydney admits. "So much of our friendship was based on--"  
  
"Our husbands being friends?" Kerri finishes her sentence. "I know, Syd. We met because of them, we hung out together at their office parties. But I mean…Eric has other friends, Syd. I was never this close to any of their wives."  
  
"I wasn't either," Sydney says with a frown. "I miss you here, Kerri."  
  
"And I miss having you in LA," Kerri says with a shrug.  
  
"Seriously, how have you been the last few months?" Sydney asks, frowning with concern.  
  
Kerri smirks. "Well, I got a huge settlement from Eric, so that was nice."  
  
"I'll bet," Sydney says.  
  
"His leaving me was really the best thing," Kerri says firmly. "This way I get the bastard's money, but I don't have to deal with him screwing around on me."  
  
"And the boys are really okay?"  
  
"Sure, they're fine," Kerri says. "And like I said, Francie still talks to me, she's really busy with the restaurant, though. Have you talked to her much lately?"  
  
"Mike and I went out to dinner with her and Will when we were in town for Christmas." Sydney feels a wave of guilt. _Why didn't you call me?_ "They seem like they're doing great. I'm so happy for her that she was finally able to get pregnant."  
  
"Yeah, she's so excited," Kerri says with a smile. "They'd finally stopped taking the fertility drugs and started looking into adoption and it just happened. She's going to be a great mom."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
There is another moment of silence before Kerri asks, "Does Mike talk to Eric much, Syd?"  
  
Sydney sighs. "Not really, Ker. I mean, they keep in touch, but--" She shrugs. "He hates what Eric did to you, you know that, don't you?"  
  
"Syd, I know that Mike knew about it for years."  
  
Sydney looks away. "What would you do if you were in that position, Ker?" she asks. "He didn't know whether it was his place to tell you, he didn't even tell me until yesterday."  
  
"I'm glad for that," Kerri says quietly. "I can accept that Mike didn't tell me, he was Eric's friend, not mine. But I don't know if I could have accepted knowing that you had been letting Eric play me for a fool."  
  
Sydney nods. "Then I'm glad that Mike didn't tell me."  
  
The two sit in silence for a moment. The waitress brings the check and asks if they want her to wrap up their mostly untouched food. Both women decline.  
  
"I need to go pick up my stuff from the hotel and catch my plane," Kerri says. She starts to rummage in her purse, and Sydney shakes her head.  
  
"I'll get the check, Kerri."  
  
"I'll let you," Kerri says with a smile. "It was really good to see you, Syd. Call me, okay?"  
  
"I will," Sydney says. She doesn't know whether she's telling the truth. Despite what Kerri said, she can't help but think that so much of their relationship was based on what they had in common. All they have in common is their kids now, and it's not like Kerri can drop over with them and go with Sydney on walks to the park. "You should come back when you can spend more time, come out and see the house."  
  
"I'd like that," Kerri says, but Sydney thinks that both women know it will never happen.  
  
"Bye, Gracie," Kerri coos to the little girl. She smiles at Sydney one last time. "Tell Mike and the kids hi, okay? Although Emily probably thinks of me as 'that scary lady from the store that made Mommy cry.'"  
  
"Nah, she forgot all about it after she got her new Barbie," Sydney says with a smile.  
  
"Good." Both women rise from their chairs and hug. Sydney feels a little misty as she watches her friend walk away.   



	13. Part Thirteen

****

Part Thirteen

Sydney makes her way into the house, juggling Gracie, her diaper bag, and a bag containing the purchase she'd made that afternoon. "Mike?" she calls. Hearing no answer, she makes her way through the house to the family room. The sight that greets her is one of the sweetest things she's ever seen.

Her husband, her son, and her oldest daughter are all sound asleep, Mike and Emily on the couch, Jack on the floor in front of them. She has half a mind to grab her camera and capture the moment on film; unfortunately Michael begins stirring almost as soon as she enters the room.

"Hey," he says sleepily.

"Hey," she responds, going about the business of depositing her belongings on the floor and freeing Grace from her carrier. "Tire the little ones out, did you?"

"Oh," he says, a bit sheepishly, doing his best to sit without disturbing Emily. "I don't think they got much sleep last night, either."

"That, or you kept them out at the pond until they were too tired to walk," Sydney chides, laying Grace down in her playpen.

Michael smiles. "We had a great time, Syd, I wish you could have come. I can already tell Jack's going to be a great hockey player, and Em-- well, she mostly hung out making snow angels, but she had fun."

"Good," Sydney says. She picks up her shopping bag and extends it toward him. "Here, I bought you something."

"Really?" he says, eyes lighting up like a little boy's as he accepts the bag. "Wow, Syd, thanks." After sorting through a mountain of tissue paper, he extracts a dress shirt in a gorgeous shade of green. He doesn't own any shirts that color, and she thinks it'll go great with his eyes. "It's beautiful," he says, pulling her towards him for a kiss. "Thanks, baby." 

"You really like it?" she asks with a smile, settling herself onto his lap.

"Absolutely. It's great."

"Good," she says with a sigh, snuggling against his chest. "Thanks again for making me breakfast this morning. That was really sweet."

"You're welcome," he says with a smile. "So how was lunch? Is Kerri okay?"

"Oh, I think she will be," Sydney says, not really wanting to go into details. "Hey, you're still up for going out for pizza, right? Do you want to go soon? I'm starving."

Michael glances at his watch. "It's only like four o'clock, Syd."

"I didn't eat much lunch," Sydney says with a shrug. "What did you guys have?"

"Peanut butter and jelly," he says with a smile. "How about we go in an hour? I need to--"

He is cut off by the sound of the ringing phone. He reaches for the phone on the end table; Jack and Emily stir but don't wake up. "Hello?…oh, hi, Mom."

"Shit," Sydney mutters. "I was supposed to call her."

Michael smiles. "Yes, Mom, she was just about to call, she had lunch in the city with a friend today…Kerri Weiss…for a wedding or something, I think." He listens for a moment, then places his hand over the phone. "She says if I ever do to you what Eric did to Kerri, she'll kill me."

"Oh, I promise you I'd kill you before she got the chance," Sydney says with a grimace.

Michael laughs and takes his hand away. "She said she'd kill me first, Mom." He smirks, then puts his hand back in place. "She says, _Good girl_."

"I always liked your mother," Sydney says, nuzzling his neck.

"I don't know, let me ask her," Michael says, then turns to Sydney once again. "She wants to know if I've been neglecting you."

"Yes, baby," Sydney says, beginning to kiss a trail down his neck. "I insist you give me some close personal attention immediately."

"Syd," Michael groans, then takes his hand away. "I'm doing my best, Mom…fine." He holds the phone out to Sydney. "She wants to talk to you."

Sydney rolls her eyes, then takes the phone. "Hi, Marguerite. I'm sorry I didn't call you back."

"That's quite all right, darling," Marguerite says. "How are you?"

"I'm great, Marguerite." Michael begins kissing a trail down her neck, and she bites her lip to keep from gasping. "Your wonderful son made breakfast for me this morning, then he spent all day with the kids."

"Good," Marguerite says approvingly. "Now what are you doing tonight, dear?"

"We were going to take the kids out for pizza, but it looks like Michael wore them out today."

"It's good for them," Michael murmurs into her neck.

"Well, have fun whatever you decide to do. Could you put my son back on the phone?"

"Absolutely," Sydney says, handing the phone back to Michael.

"Hi, Mom. Hey, I wanted to ask you-- I'm taking Sydney away for the weekend on Valentine's Day, we were hoping to fly you out to stay with the kids. Would you want to do that?"

Sydney settles against Michael's chest, but not before she sees him smile. "Great. I'll book the flight, then…I don't know. We talked about Vermont, but I'd sort of like to go somewhere warm."

"You, the hockey fan?" Sydney asks drowsily. Suddenly, she feels the events of the night before catching up to her, and she's not so hot on the idea of going out for pizza, herself.

"Syd's falling asleep on me, Mom. I'd better go…okay…okay…me, too. Goodbye."

"Syd?" he asks after a moment.

"Hmm?" Her eyes have fallen shut, and she's feeling comfortable enough curled against him to doze off.

"What do you want to do about dinner?"

"Sleep through it."

"Okay." Gently, he lies back down, her resting against him, Emily curled up in front of them, Jack on the floor, Grace in her playpen.

Her last thought before dozing off is that she bets she could sleep through the night, just like that.


	14. Part Fourteen

****

Part Fourteen

They hadn't been going to have three kids, not at first. They'd wanted two, a boy and a girl, and if the first two happened to be both boys, or both girls, then they'd try for a third. Sydney had been surprised when Emily was less than a year old and Michael had made a comment about _the next one_.

"Next one?" Sydney had repeated with raised eyebrows.

Michael had smiled rather sheepishly. "Well," he'd said. "We do have another room to fill."

She'd shaken her head with a smile. "I don't know, Michael," she'd said. "I think Emily might enjoy being the pampered baby of the family, don't you, angel?" she'd cooed, picking up the little girl.

Funny how things worked out. Now that Emily was a bit older, Sydney thought that she was much better suited to the role of bossy older sister than pampered baby. At any rate, the more she had thought about having a third, the more the idea had appealed to her. They'd started trying again shortly after Emily's second birthday, and now, Sydney couldn't imagine their family without little Gracie.

Gracie had woken her twice since Sydney had fallen asleep on the couch, and after the second time, she'd found Michael and Emily sprawled out in such a way that had made it impossible for her to join them again. She'd settled down next to Jack on the floor instead, and now it is he that wakes her, not with cries, but with gentle shaking and a whispered plea of "Mom?"

"What's the matter, sweetie?"

"I'm hungry, Mom."

Sydney squints at the VCR clock. It's ten p.m. They have all slept through dinner. "I am, too," she admits, sitting up and rubbing her eyes drowsily. "Let's go find something to eat. Does grilled cheese sound good?" She learned a long time ago that when it comes to kids, it is better to suggest something than to ask what they feel like eating.

"Yes," Jack says with a smile. He looks so much like his daddy.

"Grilled cheese, hmm? What do you want on it, tomatoes or raspberry jelly?"

"Raspberry jelly," Jack says, eyes lighting up.

"Sounds good." She stands and takes his hand, then leads him to the kitchen.

"Jack, sweetheart," she says as she goes about the business of locating grilled cheese supplies. "I've barely gotten to see you in the last couple of days."

"I know," he says, looking troubled by the fact. Jack is her buddy; every day after school she fixes him a snack and he tells her about his day. Neither of them much like missing the little ritual.

"How was school yesterday?"

"It was okay," he says with a serious frown, launching into a description of the things he'd learned. He is so solemn and serious, and wildly intelligent; he catches on to everything he learns in school quickly and can't understand the kids who have a harder time or cause trouble for the teacher.

"Did you have fun at Amanda's last night?"

Jack nods. "It wasn't snowing yet when we got home from school, so she played freeze tag in the backyard with Aaron and me, and then when Emily and Gracie got there we went inside and watched a video and she heated us up a frozen pizza."

"That sounds good," Sydney says with a smile. In fact, it sounds like almost the perfect evening for a kid. "Now, sweetheart, tell me about your day with Daddy."

It is then that Jack's eyes light up and he really comes alive; he adores spending time with his father and he is a natural athlete. Sydney is glad that there are at least a few things that will wipe the serious frown off of his face.

"Jack's going to be the next Wayne Gretzky," Michael declares as he enters the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Who's that, Dad?"

"Who's that?" Michael asks, pretending to be offended. "Only, like, the best hockey player of all time, Jack."

"Oh," Jack says happily. "I'm going to be as good as him?"

"We'll see," Michael says, winking at Sydney. "You'll have to practice a whole lot."

"Can we go again tomorrow, Dad?"

"Not tomorrow," Michael says, moving over to where Sydney stands at the stove. "Tomorrow we're going to go to the museum and see the dinosaurs."

"Really, Dad?" Jack cries. If there is one thing he loves more than hockey, it's dinosaurs.

"Sure," Michael says with a smile. It is then that he directs his attention to Sydney. "You're making grilled cheese?"

"Would you like one?"

"Yes, please," he says with a boyish grin, leaning over to give her a quick kiss before joining Jack at the table.

"Em and Grace still out?" There are baby monitors all over the house, so they'll hear the little one if she cries.

"Yeah, but Em's getting a little restless," Michael says. "Ten bucks says she'll be in here in ten minutes asking for grilled cheese."

"I'll make a pile of them," Sydney says with a smile. "Jack, honey, do you want yours cut into triangles?"

"Is Dad having his cut into triangles?" Jack asks with a frown.

"Maybe just in half," Michael says with a smile.

"I just want it in half, Mom."

She finishes their sandwiches and a couple of extra, then pours glasses of milk and sits down at the table. "Whether or not Em and Grace wake up by the time we're done, I think we should put them in bed after this, Mike," Sydney says with a yawn. "I don't want to sleep in my clothes in the living room all night."

"Sounds like a plan," Michael says.

"You're coming with us to the museum tomorrow, right, Mom?" Jack asks.

"I don't know," Sydney says with a smile. "Am I invited, Mike?"

"Of course," he says, returning her smile.

As predicted, Emily is there in the next few minutes, and she lets Sydney cut her sandwich into triangles without a care as to whether anyone else is. Sydney loves that her little girl knows her own mind, and she loves that tomorrow at the museum Jack will take his little sister by the hand and explain everything to her. She wonders what things about Gracie she'll find to love as she grows older.

Right now, she doesn't have to know anything about her in order to love her. It's enough just that she's hers.


	15. Part Fifteen

****

Part Fifteen

The next few weeks pass in what seems like no time, and before long the day comes when Michael will pick his mother up at the airport after work. Sydney stands at the stove, keeping an eye on the pasta and smiling as she realizes that by this time the next day, she'll be lying on the beach. In the end, she and Michael had decided to go to Jamaica, where they'd said "I do" nearly a decade before. (His mother has never quite forgiven them for deciding that they wanted their wedding to be just for the two of them.) Their anniversary is in April, but Sydney is glad that they're not waiting to take this trip. Four days, three nights in the sun, not a baby bottle or a Tonka truck in sight.

Gracie is in her playpen, and Jack and Emily sit at the kitchen table coloring pictures for their grandmother.

"What are you drawing, Em?" Jack asks, peering over his little sister's shoulder.

"I'm drawing me and Mommy and Gracie feeding the ducks."

"Why is the duck purple?"

"That's not a duck, that's Gracie!"

They hear the front door open, and both children snatch up their drawings and go running for the door.

"Daddeeee! Grammy!" Sydney hears Emily squeal.

"Hi, Grandma! Look, we made you pictures!" 

Sydney turns the heat down on her sauce, then scoops up Gracie to join the others. She sees Michael putting his mother's suitcase and his briefcase out of the way while both of the children pounce on their grandmother.

"Come on, kids, give your grandmother some breathing room," Michael says, even as his mother exclaims over the drawings and how big the children have gotten and how wonderful they look. "Hi, sweetheart," he adds, noticing Sydney standing in the doorway.

"Hi, baby," she says with a soft smile. "Hello, Marguerite."

"Sydney, darling," Marguerite gasps, disentangling herself from the little ones. "You look beautiful. Oh, is that my newest granddaughter?"

"That's Gracie, Grammy!" Emily exclaims. She is actually jumping up and down, she's so excited.

"Yes, I know, dear," Marguerite says with a laugh, taking the baby from her daughter-in-law. "Oh, she's beautiful, Sydney, and she's gotten so big since the last time I saw her."

"I know," Sydney says with a smile. "She's growing like a weed."

"Mom, I'm going to go put your things in the guest bedroom, if you'd like to freshen up before dinner," Michael says.

"Thank you, Michel, I'll be up in a minute." Michael nods and starts towards the stairs.

"He's a good boy, isn't he?" Marguerite sighs.

"The best," Sydney says, smile widening.

"He's not working too hard, is he, darling? He's taking plenty of time for you and the little ones?"

"Not too hard," Sydney says. "But I think this vacation will be good for him."

"And for you," Marguerite says firmly. Leaning close enough that the children can't hear, she murmurs, "I almost went out of my mind looking after one child sometimes, I can't imagine having three."

Sydney laughs. "Why don't you go on up to your room, Marguerite, and I'll check on dinner. It should be ready in just a few minutes."

"Oh, Sydney, let me help you," Marguerite says with a frown.

"No, really, you've had a long flight. Was it okay, by the way?"

"Not so bad," Marguerite smiles. "All right, darling, take your little angel."

Sydney takes Gracie from her just as Michael appears at the bottom of the stairs. "It's the second door on the left, Mom, you remember where it is?"

"Yes, sweetheart, thank you," she says, patting his cheek fondly. "Now go help your beautiful wife with dinner."

"Oh, Mike, get out of your jacket and tie first," Sydney advises. "Jack, sweetheart, can you help me set the dining room table?"

"I'll help, too," Emily says, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Good girl," Sydney says approvingly. "Help your brother with the napkins and silverware, okay, darling?"

"Okay."

Sydney has just checked the sauce and started putting out the china when Michael appears behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You know where we'll be this time tomorrow?"

"Mmm, I can't wait," she sighs, turning in his arms to give him a long, sensual kiss, a kiss that holds just a hint of what the next few days will bring. They have just parted when Marguerite appears in the doorway.

"What can I help you with, Sydney?"

"Sit. Relax, Marguerite," Sydney tells her. "Can I get you a glass of wine?"

"That would be lovely, dear."

"I'll go bring up a bottle," Michael volunteers.

Marguerite looks after him fondly. "The two of you really are very happy, aren't you, Sydney?"

"Very," Sydney confirms. She's telling her mother-in-law the truth.

A few weeks ago the combination of dreams and Kerri had had her thinking about how awful it would be if she lost him. Now, she is determined just to enjoy him, and not to ruin what they have waiting for the shoe that may never drop.


	16. Part Sixteen

****

Part Sixteen

The Vaughns have just settled down to dinner when Michael's cell phone begins ringing.

"Michael, honey, let them leave a message," Sydney says, glancing at Michael's mother.

Michael checks the caller ID on his phone, then frowns. "I'm sorry, Syd, I can't, it's the office." His mother shoots him a Look, and he adds an apologetic, "You know how it is, you leave early one day and the whole place goes to hell. Excuse me. Michael Vaughn," he says into the phone, rising from the table. "Jake, hi, what's up?…he did _what_? Jake, that's a multi-million dollar client!…Well if you know that, I'm not sure why you don't sound more upset. Do you value your job? Does--"

Now it is Sydney's turn to give him a Look, and Michael stops short. "Just a second, Jake." To his family, he says, "I'm really sorry, I have to deal with this now." He heads to the kitchen, but before he leaves the room, Sydney hears him say, "I want him fired, Jake. Call him as soon as you and I hang up and do it."

Marguerite turns to Sydney, perplexed. "What is this all about?"

"I-- I don't know," Sydney says, rising from the table. "Excuse me."

She moves into the kitchen to find Michael pacing, cell phone in hand. "Tonight, Jake. I don't want to see his face in the office again…do you understand how serious this is, Jake? Best case scenario, we've lost a client, worst case scenario, we've got a lawsuit on our hands. I want Todd Reynolds fired, and tell the attorneys working under him that as far as I'm concerned, they're starting over from the bottom rung."

Sydney's eyes widen. Todd _Reynolds_? He was Michael's golden boy; how many times has Sydney heard that "Todd Reynolds is going places" or "Todd Reynolds is going to make partner before he's thirty, I swear, Sydney, he's incredible."

"Tomorrow morning, we start straightening out the mess he made," Michael continues.

"Michael," Sydney says in surprise. Their flight leaves at ten a.m.

Michael seems to remember this at the same moment, because next he says, "Be there early, Jake, six a.m., I have a plane to catch…well, too bad, a couple of hours is all I have. If you don't think you can handle cleaning up this mess, then I'm sure Billy or Sheila-- That's what I thought. Six a.m. Sharp." Michael hangs up the phone without saying goodbye.

"You fired Todd Reynolds?" Sydney asks, eyes wide.

"He made a multi-million dollar mistake, Sydney, damn right I fired him."

Sydney just stares at him.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," Sydney says, shaking her head. "I'm just surprised. I know you think he's a good attorney."

"_Was_ a good attorney," Michael corrects. "I'll be curious to see what the hell he plans on doing with his life now."

"God," Sydney whispers. A man's career had just ended, just like that. One mistake, and it was over.

"Does this seem harsh to you?" Michael asks.

"Michael, I don't know enough about the situation to say that," Sydney says with a sigh. "It's just a little scary to me, how fleeting everything is. Eric and Kerri's marriage is gone; this morning, Todd was a hotshot attorney at one of the country's best law firms, tonight he doesn't have a job."

"Things are only fleeting if you fuck up," Michael says matter-of-factly. "Todd's career is over because he fucked up. Eric and Kerri's marriage is over because Eric fucked up."

Sydney stares at him in amazement, something in his words and tone of voice striking a nerve. "God help me if I ever burn one of your dinners or show up at one of your parties with a hair out of place."

"Sydney, come on," Michael says with a sigh. "Neither of those examples are in any way comparable to Todd making a multi-million dollar mistake or Eric committing adultery."

"But there will be things in our life that are," Sydney points out, crossing her arms before her. "What are you going to do when Jack's in high school and comes home puking drunk? When you catch a sixteen-year-old Emily in bed with her boyfriend?"

"We are not having this conversation," Michael says firmly. "I expect perfection from the associates at my firm, yes. We're talking millions of dollars there, jobs, the firm's reputation. What have I ever done to indicate that I expect the same sort of perfection from my family?"

"Nothing," Sydney says softly, biting her lower lip. "Everything. The house, the cars, the clothes, the parties, the vacations. Our life is pretty fucking perfect, Mike."

"So, what?" Michael asks, a hurt gleam in his eyes. "You start looking for ways I'm going to fuck it up?"

"Michael--"

"No, Sydney, tell me. Do you think I'm going to cheat like Eric? Lose my job like Todd? Turn my back on you and the children for any small imperfection? God, Sydney," he says, beginning to pace the room. "What have I ever done to make you have so little faith in me?"

"Nothing," Sydney says, tears coming to her eyes. "You're wonderful, Michael. But is it wrong to worry about things being so perfect when no one else's life is?"

"It's wrong to create problems where there are none."

Sydney bites her lower lip, staring down at her feet. "Maybe I'm the one who needs everything to be perfect," she whispers. "Anything goes wrong, I can't handle it. Eric and Kerri, Todd."

"Syd, I hate what's happening to Eric and Kerri, too, and I'm not exactly thrilled about having to fire Todd," Michael says, stepping closer to her. "But those things have nothing to do with us."

"I know," Sydney says, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand. "God, I'm sorry, Mike. I'm a wreck."

"You're not a wreck," he says, kissing her gently.

They stand in silence for a moment, and she lets him pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry I have to go into the office tomorrow. I promise I'll finish early enough to make our flight, but I won't have time to come home first, I'll have to meet you at my office, or at the airport."

"Are you sure you don't need to stay and take care of things?" Sydney asks worriedly.

"No," Michael says firmly. "Jake and the others can handle it. It's a big problem, but it's not one that only I can solve."

"Will you still be able to enjoy yourself on vacation?"

He laughs softly. "Valentine's Day in Jamaica with my beautiful wife? I think I'll have an okay time, Syd."

Sydney smiles. "We should get back to dinner. I'm surprised your mother's not in here yet."

As if on cue, Marguerite appeared in the doorway. "Is everything okay in here?"

"Fine," Michael says, squeezing Sydney's hand. "Everything's fine, Mom."

Sydney can only hope that everything stays that way.


	17. Part Seventeen

****

Part Seventeen

Sydney walks sleepily toward the kitchen the next morning, surprised to hear the sounds of coffee brewing and bacon sizzling, though she isn't sure why she should feel surprised. Every time she'd gone to answer Grace's cries in the night, she'd found Marguerite already tending to her. She thinks it is a good thing that Marguerite doesn't live with them all the time.

"Good morning, darling," Marguerite says cheerily as Sydney enters the kitchen. Marguerite already has Grace up and settled in her playpen; Emily and Jack will sleep until Sydney wakes them to say goodbye. "Sit down, and I'll fix you a plate."

"Thank you, Marguerite," Sydney says, too tired to argue. Though she and Michael are supposedly okay, things are still tense between them; as a result, she didn't sleep well the night before.

"Did Michael make it in to the office?" Marguerite asks, voice soft with concern.

"I think so," Sydney sighs. "I heard him get up at some ungodly hour like four-thirty a.m."

Marguerite places a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon in front of her, as well as a fork and a cup of coffee, then sits down next to her. "Major problem at work?" she asks quietly. Sydney and Michael hadn't said much when they'd returned to the dinner table the night before; they'd been content to let Emily babble away. Sydney and Marguerite had kept the conversation to things like the kids and the new wallpaper in the kitchen while they'd cleaned up the dishes, and Sydney and Michael had headed off to bed soon after with few words to anyone, or to each other.

"I guess so," Sydney sighs, running a hand back through her hair. "One of his associates made some huge mistake, and Michael had to fire him. I don't know anything about what goes on at the law firm, of course, but I felt bad because the associate is a really good guy, or seems like one, anyway. Young, has a nice wife."

"Kids?" Marguerite asks with a frown.

"No," Sydney says. "Not yet." She remembers Lisa saying that they were going to start trying in a year or so, after she finished her graduate degree and got settled with a job. Sydney could imagine how the rest of their lives would have played out-- Todd would have made partner around the time Lisa found out she was pregnant, they would have bought a house. Maybe Lisa would have taken a job, maybe she'd have decided to stay home with the baby, as Sydney had. Either way, they would have congratulated themselves on how wonderfully and perfectly their lives were turning out. Sydney knew, because she and Michael's lives had unfolded similarly. It was painful to realize how differently things could have turned out, how differently things were going to turn out for Todd and Lisa now.

"That's what had you so upset?" Marguerite prompts. "That you felt bad for the young man?"

"That was part of it," Sydney admits. "Another part was realizing how suddenly things can go wrong for someone, and another part was how quickly and coldly Michael made the decision. He didn't even struggle with it, it was just _bam_, you screwed up, you're out."

"Sometimes you have to make decisions like that quickly and coldly, Sydney," Marguerite says. "He's dealing with a major law firm, millions of dollars. He can't be worried about peoples' feelings."

"I know, I understand that," Sydney sighs, nibbling on a piece of toast. "I just-- hadn't seen that side of him before."

Marguerite places a hand over Sydney's. "His business and his personal lives are two completely separate things, you realize that, don't you?"

Sydney looks at Marguerite with surprise. "How did you--?" 

"Michael's father was a very similar person, Sydney," Marguerite says, rising to refill her coffee cup. "I think Michael has his priorities straighter, though. You can feel grateful for that."

"Michael idolized his father," Sydney says, a little sadly. "He talks about him as if he were some-- God, or something."

"He was just a boy when his father died, Sydney," Marguerite points out. "Doesn't Jack look at Michael the same way?"

Sydney thinks of the way Jack had insisted on having his grilled cheese cut "just in half," and she smiles. "I guess he does."

Marguerite regards her silently for a moment. "You don't feel happy with the way you and Michael left the argument, do you?" she asks. "You feel like you still have things to talk about."

"I guess we do."

Marguerite pats her hand encouragingly. "Talk about them," she says. "And then make up in the most glorious possible ways. You'll be in a great location for it."

"Marguerite," Sydney says, blushing. Then she smiles, and says, "Thanks, Marguerite. Listen, thanks for breakfast, but I'm really not--"

"Go," Marguerite says dismissively. "Go make yourself beautiful, get your things together, and go meet your husband."

"Thank you, Marguerite," Sydney says, giving the older woman a hug.

"My pleasure, dear."


	18. Part Eighteen

****

Part Eighteen

Sydney sits on a couch in the lobby of Michael's office, thumbing through a magazine. She hopes he finishes up soon. They have plenty of time to make their plane, but she will feel a lot better once they're actually on their way to the airport.

She is halfway through reading an old issue of _Entertainment Weekly _when, to her surprise, Lisa Reynolds comes storming through the lobby.

"Lisa," Sydney says with surprise. "Hi. I'm so--"

She hasn't even made it halfway through the sentence when Lisa throws open the door to Michael's office. It's Saturday, so there is no secretary to try to stop her from going in there. Sydney realizes too late that she should have tried to stop her.

"You son of a bitch."

Sydney has a good view of Michael's desk from where she is sitting, and she sees Michael and Jake both look up from the files they had been poring over. "Can I help you, Lisa?" Michael asks calmly.

"You can help me by telling me who the hell you think you are," Lisa spits. "My husband works his fingers to the bone for you, he's here nights, weekends, and you can't even support him when he makes a mistake, you have to just toss him aside like he's-- he's--"

"You don't know anything about what goes on here, Lisa," Michael interrupts, still speaking in that infuriatingly calm tone of voice. "And the details of Todd's dismissal don't concern you."

Sydney winces. She would kill him if he ever condescended to her like that, she'd absolutely kill him.

Lisa doesn't handle it much better. "Don't _concern _me? Oh, that's right, _Mr. Vaughn_, I'm just his wife, I'm just supposed to keep his house clean and fix his meals and fuck him and crank out babies and keep my nose out of his business affairs, like your pretty little wife does."

Sydney can't help but gasp, wondering how the hell she became a part of this.

Her gasp earns her a quick glance from Michael; seeing that she is witnessing this seems to be the thing that finally gets him angry. "No, Lisa, I would never say that. I know that you wouldn't appreciate me pretending to know what you're _supposed to do_ with your personal life, just as I don't appreciate you coming in here and telling me how to run my business. Call security," he tells Jake.

"No, you don't have to," Lisa says. Sydney can hear tears in her voice, and her heart sinks a little. "I'll let you dismiss me like you dismissed him. I just didn't want you to make a decision like that and think you didn't hurt anyone."

Lisa leaves with none of the bravado she stormed in with. Sydney sees the look on her face as she passes by, and all she sees is sadness, defeat, and fear. She wants to say something, but she knows that nothing she could say would possibly be enough. Instead, she waits for Lisa to get on the elevator, and then she stands with shaky legs and walks to the doorway of Michael's office.

He sees her standing there, and he shakes his head a bit regretfully. "Jake," he says, his voice quiet, unsteady. "Could you leave us alone, please?" 

Jake nods. "We're done here, right? You're leaving?"

Michael looks away, biting his lower lip. "I feel like such a bastard, firing a man and then jetting off to Jamaica."

"We don't have to go, Mike," Sydney says quietly.

"No, hey, you should definitely go," Jake says hastily. "You've had this trip planned for weeks, and anyway-- you did what you had to do, Mike. You don't have to feel bad about that."

"Yeah," Michael says, his voice hollow. "Listen, thanks for coming in so early on a Saturday, Jake. Go home, okay? This-- it can wait till Monday."

Jake laughs. "Thanks, Mike, but no it can't. Todd's wife coming in here and throwing a hissy doesn't resolve the problem Reynolds caused."

Michael shakes his head. "No, I guess it doesn't."

"We don't have to go, Mike," Sydney repeats.

"No. Seriously. Go," Jake says firmly. "You shouldn't have to miss your vacation because Reynolds--"

"Yeah," Mike interrupts. "Thanks again, Jake. I'll be back in town Tuesday night, back in the office Wednesday, and you have the number to reach me if anything earth shattering happens."

"Okay," Jake says, gathering his things and starting out of the office.

"Jake?" Michael calls after him.

Jake pauses.

"Please don't call unless it's earth shattering."

"Got it," Jake says. "Have a good trip."

He leaves, and Michael looks up at Sydney from his office chair. "Do you think I'm the biggest bastard of all time?"

"No, baby," she says softly.

He offers her a shaky smile. "Then will you come here? Please?"

She moves toward him, and he pulls her onto his lap. She lets him pull her tight to him, and she rests her head against his chest.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you, too."

They sit in silence for a moment before she speaks again, hesitantly. "You know what bothered me about last night?"

She feels him tense up against her as he asks, "What?"

"The way it seemed you made the decision to fire him so quickly, so coldly."

He shakes his head. "I didn't like firing him, Sydney, I didn't. But mistakes like that-- they could cost me the firm, Sydney. Right now Todd and Lisa think I've ruined their lives, but if I lost this…" he lets the sentence trail off, but Sydney knows what he's getting at.

"You're just as scared of our perfect existence crumbling around us as I am," she realizes.

"Terrified," he whispers, pulling her closer to him. "Of losing everything I've worked so hard for, not being able to take care of you and the kids, losing you to someone who can."

"That will _never_ happen," she says firmly.

"I know that, I do," he says. "But in my nightmares…sometimes it does."

"You have nightmares, too?"

"Sometimes."

They sit in silence for a long moment before Sydney speaks again. She wants to tell Michael that he doesn't have to be so strong for her all the time, that he can talk to her about his insecurities. Instead, she whispers, "This is life, isn't it? Trying to make something for yourself, for your family, and then doing everything you can to keep from losing it."

"Yes," he whispers, holding her tighter. "And hopefully, if you're lucky, somewhere along the way you'll find someone you really love to share it with."

She smiles, pulling away from him just enough so that she can kiss him lightly.

"Let's go to Jamaica."


	19. Epilogue

****

Epilogue

"Syd?"

"Mmm?" she murmurs. It is the next day, and they are lying on their stomachs on towels on a beach in Jamaica; she had been just about to doze off when he spoke.

"Do you remember the night I proposed?"

She turns on her side to look at him, pushing her sunglasses atop her head. "Of course. On your birthday." Playfully, she squirts a bit of sunscreen onto his chest and rubs it in as she speaks. "I was your present that year."

"And every year after that."

"You're so sweet." She leans over to kiss him, then rolls over on her back, pushing her sunglasses back over her eyes.

"Do you remember how I did it?"

She smiles at the memory. "I wanted to make a romantic candlelight dinner for you, but everything went wrong."

"I came over and found you still in your robe, standing over a collapsed birthday cake and a burnt pan of lasagna."

She turns to smile at him. "I wasn't that bad of a cook, you know. Everything just sort of fell apart that night."

"I know, baby. Anyway, and I walked in, and you turned to me like you weren't sure whether you should laugh or cry."

"So I just started apologizing," she picks up. "And you stopped me, you leaned over and kissed me very softly, and then you said--"

"_I want to marry you_," he cuts in, leaning over to kiss her.

She smiles. "And I was so shocked, I think I said something really articulate like, _What_?"

"And then I started apologizing. And you said--"

"_You're apologizing for saying you want to marry me_?"

He smiles. "And I said something really articulate like _Yes. No. I'm not apologizing for saying it, Syd, I'm apologizing for the way I said it. I was going to wait for the perfect moment._ And you said--"

"_I think now's pretty perfect_."

"And I dropped to my knee," he says with a smile. "And pulled the ring out of my jacket pocket, and I said, _Sydney Bristow, will you marry me_?"

"And I said yes," she returns his smile. "And six months later, we got married on this exact beach."

"And here we are again, right where we started."

"Right where we started."

"Except this time," he reminds her. "We have three babies at home."

"I wonder if they're okay," she says, sitting up. "We should call them."

"I'm sure they're fine, Syd."

"I know," she says. "But I miss them."

"I miss them, too." He takes her hand and kisses it, and she lies back down, facing him.

"When you proposed," she says. "Is that your favorite memory of us?"

"I have to choose a favorite?"

"Of course not." She pauses. "I have a favorite."

He laughs, touching her cheek fondly. "What's your favorite, baby?"

"Right after Jack was born," she says promptly. "And you climbed into my hospital bed with me, and we were looking at our beautiful little boy, and you said--"

"_Can you believe it, Syd_?" he whispers. "_He's ours. You kept him safe inside of you for nine months, and now he's here with us_."

She takes his hand and guides it to touch her stomach. "You were always so awed by me giving birth," she says, brushing his hair back from his face fondly. "As if it was some kind of miracle."

"It is a miracle, Sydney," he says, lowering himself to kiss her stomach. "That our love can create something so small and perfect."

She runs her fingers through his hair. "I really do love you."

He slides back up to her eye level, and he smiles. "I really love you, too."

They kiss, and she thinks of nothing except how deliriously happy she is right now, in the moment. Not her nightmares. Not the horrible things that might happen to them. She knows that Michael is not thinking of his nightmares, either, or about work or money or even the three beautiful little ones they have at home.

Right there, in that moment, there is only the two of them. And for the moment, that is enough.


End file.
